


Leaving Marks

by anotherjadedwriter



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Aftercare, Bloodplay, Body Modification, Dom/sub, Humanstuck, Knifeplay, M/M, Scarification, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-12 04:33:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3343796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherjadedwriter/pseuds/anotherjadedwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You’ve been decorating him for a while, in very small increments. One could say he’s your masterpiece, if you called yourself an artist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leaving Marks

Kurloz is still, his head down, and you pet through his hair, down his back. He looks up at you with a smile, his cheeks flushed slightly and his tongue slipping out to toy with one of the rings in his bottom lip, those almost-purple dark eyes locking on yours for a second.

His hands are tied to the headboard, so you don’t expect too much of a response when you speak. “Are you ready? Just nod, Kurloz.” You murmur, brushing his hair back from his face gently. He nods, waving the hand holding the little bell to show that he’s got it. You kiss his forehead, then let him shuffle to where he’s comfortable.

You sit back, looking him over, and drag your nails down his spine, over the older, healed scars. Kurloz arches up into it, lifting his skinny hips and prompting you to slip your hand under his jeans and grope him a little. He jumps, then flattens out again and lets you crawl over him. Pressing your full weight on his hips makes him go limp, shivering a little with what you assume to be anticipation.

Hands sliding up his sides, over his arms to, once again, test the tightness of his bonds, you lay yourself against him, kissing the side of his neck gently. You know how easily he gets flustered if you play with him first, and it’s already working, making him squirm under you. Grinding against his ass makes him rock back, head falling forward in a silent request for you to keep going. You kiss the back of his neck, near his hairline, and slip your hands back down his sides, just barely ghosting over his skin.

After a few more moments of playing with him, he’s just rocking back against your crotch, and you contemplate just fucking him into the mattress and saving anything else for tomorrow, but you’re not sure that you could offer him the care he’ll need tomorrow, either. Damn time constraints.

You sit back on your haunches, doing your best to move slowly as you reach for your case of tools. The leather unrolls smoothly, and you spread it on his back, all the tools lined up neatly. You pick out a small razor cutting tool, then pour some of the alcohol into the little cup and swish it around. You have to make certain it’s clean, because even if he wants it to hurt, he doesn’t want infection. You wouldn’t let him, anyway.

As soon as that’s done, you set the glass aside and wipe the blade on your rag. Kurloz is perfectly still as you set your pack back on the nightstand and map out where you’ll cut with your fingertip, so you pause before lowering the blade.

"Which hand has the bell?" You ask, looking at his hands closely. He shakes the left one and it jingles slightly. "Remember, shake it and I’ll slow down, drop it and I’ll stop."

He looks over his shoulder in a way that seems like he would be saying “Of course I remember, it’s my code.”, and you smile at him, patting his back.

"I just need to be sure, Kurloz. Stay still."

He goes lax again and you pet down his spine, eyes scanning over the delicate mars in his skin, the raised patterns on his shoulders, his sides. You’ve been decorating him for a while, in very small increments. One could say he’s your masterpiece, if you called yourself an artist. The first ones were shaky and shallow, and he had to comfort you as much as you did him. It took a long time for you to work up to being actually comfortable with the way it made you feel to cut him while he’s immobile, let alone the fact that he scarred so dramatically. You’ve read about it, apparently darker skin tones are prone to raised scars.

The blade pushes through his skin nicely, and he sucks in a breath, legs locking tight under you. You stop to straighten the towel under him, then continue, slow curving details on the main skull between his shoulders, careful to avoid the little flowers he’s got tattooed here and there on it. When you pull back, he’s already shivering, his blood pooling shallowly in the small of his back. He’s gorgeous, and you say as much, petting the side of his head where he’s got it tossed to the side.

You trace his lips, smiling at the way he’s panting against the pillow, and rock your hips into his. He sighs this shivery little thing, his right hand flexing, and hums when you rock into him again. He kisses your fingers, his hips moving shallowly, grinding into the mattress and keeping the freshest cuts open as he does. Lifting yourself from him, you lean on your arm to reach for a rag, and the gauze and tape, all of which you set beside him. He writhes when you drag your tongue up between his shoulder blades, just avoiding the edge of his wound. Mouths are filthy, medically speaking, so even though you really do want to taste the blood, you don’t. Plus, you’re not sure if he’d go for that.

He jolts when you sit back, pinning him to the bed again, and you make sure to take your time mopping the blood off his skin, pretending to ignore the way his rocking presses against the fairly obvious tent in your jeans. You pick the blade up, wipe it clean, and start on another part of the design you mapped out so long ago that you can hardly remember when you still had to draw it out on his skin. His legs move behind you as you work, but the way you’re sitting on him keeps him still enough for you to work.

The swirling designs take up most of his back, inside the skull, which you still secretly think is a little cliche. He’d drawn out the design and explained how to transfer it to his skin, and you’d just followed the lines. If you’re honest, you were surprised when he reacted the way he did the first time you managed to actually do any real design, gripping the chair and panting, dragging you into his lap the second you were finished bandaging him up and keeping you up half the night seeing how loud you could call his name.

Kurloz’s shoulders are tight, stiff even, so you finish the swirl you’re on, wiping the blood away to keep your cut smooth and in place, and then you set the knife and used rag aside. He’s got another little pool in the small of his back, and you’re glad his sheets are black anyway because the towel is twisted under him and he’s got little rivulets of crimson down his shoulders and sides.

You shift over him, pressing a little kiss to his cheek, and start to clean him up, doing what you can to keep him still so the scabs can start forming. Once the excess blood is wiped away, you lay some measures of gauze over the wounds, pre-treated with an antibacterial salve. After that, another layer of gauze, this one dry, and then you secure it all with tape. You climb off him and untie him, glad to see that the marks on his wrists are little more than imprints.

He’s got tears on his cheeks and, when he sits up, he shivers slightly, leaning in to kiss you. You brush his hair back, wiping his face gently. He smiles and lets you cluck over him, leaning into all the attentions you give him and wrapping himself around you when he gets the chance. You don’t mind when he pulls you into his lap, kissing the side of his head when he kisses your neck.

Kurloz grinds himself against you and you hum, rolling your hips counterpoint to his and pulling him up to kiss him again. When you speak, it’s against his lips, breathing in shallowly and stroking his cheek soothingly.

"I didn’t forget. Let me take care of you?" You murmur, watching him closely. "Does that sound alright?"

He nods, cheeks flushed, and kisses you again before moving his hands between the two of you. “Long as you keep touching me.”

"Of course." You coo, pressing your lips to the underside of his jaw as you slide from his lap.

At your urging, he lays back carefully, padding pillows behind himself, and you busy yourself with following his body’s path, hooking the bar in his collarbone between your teeth and tugging just firmly enough to make him shiver. His fingers tangle in your hair by the time you get to the silver ring at his left pec, tightening just a bit when you warm it with your tongue. Your hand slips down his front, only toying with the little bauble in his navel for a second before groping at his cock through his jeans.

Mouth trailing lower at your own pace, you circle your palm against him and leave a damp trail of open-mouthed kisses to the edge of his jeans. You don’t want to tease him too much, though, so you only make one hickey on his hip while you pull his jeans down. He sighs, and when you look up again, he’s smiling, flushed slightly and pleased looking. There’s a little damp spot at the tip of the tent in his underwear, and you can’t help but press your tongue against it, looking up at him.

He drops his head back, tugging you insistently down with his hold in your hair, so you drag his underwear down and trace a nonsense pattern between the silver balls on the ends of the four bars along the underside of his shaft, then draw your tongue over the head in a few quick swipes, one hand stroking him while the other slips down to play with his balls. He hums, pushing you down lightly before dragging his hands back up his front to toy with his chest piercings.

You take him in bit by bit, bobbing slowly and pressing your tongue against his cock as you do, and he huffs, hips lifting, when you press your nose against his pelvis. He makes a kinds of ‘ffffff’ noise when you pull off him with a pop, slow enough that there’s a string of saliva on your lip. He’s panting, probably aching from the way he’s laying on his wounds, and when you start bobbing on his cock he pants, hard and fast, with one hand slapping over his mouth and his hips twitching up towards you when you pull back.

Pressing forward all the way, you swallow around him, and he huffs a hard breath out his nose as he comes, legs getting stiff under you and his lip catching between his teeth. You pull back to the tip and just use your hand, working him through it until he goes limp and shivery under you. Then, you take a few seconds to spit into the little trashcan next to the bed. He chuckles, his shoulders shaking, and you smile shyly at him.

Kurloz lets you move him around, ending up naked on his stomach on the bed, wrapped in a blanket, and crawls directly on top of you when you lay next to him with your laptop. You kiss him gently once he’s settled.

"Wanna watch a movie?" You ask.

He nods and you start up “The Godfather” without having to ask what he wants. You keep meaning to ask him why he always wants to watch that when he just passes out on top of you twenty minutes in, but you always forget by the time you wake up and wriggle out from under him to deal with your persistent blue-balls in the bathroom (once you tried to in his room and he woke up partway through; even though you got a pretty stellar blowjob from it, but it was too embarrassing to let it happen again).

In a few months, you’ll do this again, and then his design will probably be done. He has said that he wanted to see how good you are with a tattoo gun, though.

**Author's Note:**

> so this exists :y  
> if you enjoyed this, consider tipping me here: https://ko-fi.com/A781PZJ


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